The order was given for the guns to be loaded, and quick as thought the
European artillerymen placed a quarter charge of powder in each piece.
The guns were 9-pounders, the muzzles standing about 3 feet from the
ground.

During these awful preparations, I watched at intervals the faces of the
condemned men, but could detect no traces of fear or agitation in their
demeanour. The twelve stood two deep, six in front and six in the rear,
calm and undismayed, without uttering a word.

An officer came forward, and, by the Brigadier's order, read the
sentence of the court-martial, and at its conclusion the six men in
front, under escort, walked towards the battery.

There was a death-like silence over the scene at this time, and,
overcome with horror, my heart seemed almost to cease beating.

Arrived at the guns, the culprits were handed over to the artillerymen,
who, ready prepared with strong ropes in their hands, seized their
victims. Each of these, standing erect, was bound to a cannon and
tightly secured, with the small of the back covering the muzzle. And
then all at once the silence which reigned around was broken by the
oaths and yells of those about to die. These sounds were not uttered by
men afraid of death, for they showed the most stoical indifference,
but were the long-suppressed utterances of dying souls, who, in the
bitterness of their hearts, cursed those who had been instrumental
in condemning them to this shameful end. They one and all poured out
maledictions on our heads; and in their language, one most rich in
expletives, they exhausted the whole vocabulary.